Arrowseeker padded through the territory. It was the first time he'd walked here since he'd died. No one had said a word to him yet.
[Open to anyone who wants to interact with Arrowseeker]
__________________
"I’m not saying I’m a bad person, but I’m definitely a bad influence." - Max Black 2 Broke Girls
Had StarClan still refrained from reinstating that insufferable border? Shame. One would think they'd be more on top of this sort of thing, but alas... perhaps his view of them was still twisted by tall tales from the nursery.
Bogtumble lurked near the fringes of the broken veil, paws brushing lush grass and fresh air. It was clean and breathable, far more favorable than that stench that invaded his nose from the dark wood he'd been stuffed into and forgotten about. No, this was preferable. It was bright and warm and everything he'd been missing about the moor.
The Dark Forest resident slipped through a wavering gap and trotted forward. He was sure he stuck out like a sore thumb, but it wasn't as if any starry-furred warrior could do much about his presence here. He'd just slip back through.
Perhaps he'd find something to eat. It'd been too long since a good meal graced his tongue, and Bogtumble was starving.
Small white and black spotted paws trotted over the starry grass, carefully tracing the ground, as if they were still unsure whether it was real. So this was what it was like to be dead? The former Riverclan queen didn't know what she had expected the afterlife to be like. Of course, she had believed in Starclan, at least to some degree, but she had never been visited by one in a dream or seen a spirit while being alive.
But this was it then huh?
The small cat had wandered in her thoughts so long that when she looked up from the starry ground and her own paws (which were also starry now!) she found herself not that many fox-length away from an eerie sight. A blurry line between the sparkling meadows and forest of Starclan... and the murky Darkforest. A shiver ran down her spine and Cowskip stumbled back a few steps... but there was something else that claimed her attention.
"Excuse me, sir, you- eh- Ireallydon'tthinkyoushouldbehere." Oh shooting stars, she was really not in shape to fight back a Dark forest spirit - she had been stuck in the nursery for almost half a year before dying! Maybe she could try talking to them.... maybe.
Hm. A visitor. That was faster than he thought it would be.
Bogtumble paused where he stood, fox-lengths from the border. Long, tattered ears turned forward as he locked one working yellow eye on the newcomer. She seemed new. There was a certain uncertainty about her, innocent and timid.
His favorite. How lucky.
A low hum rolled from his throat, and instead of retreating like she probably hoped she would, he turned his paws in her direction and slowly advanced. "Oh, don't mind me," he purred. "The veil is open, so I may as well have been personally handed an invitation. I'm just here to... do some sight-seeing. Yes." His tongue wet his lips. "I'd ask you for a tour, but, hm. You don't quite seem the ideal type."
Vinepaw-8 moons- anxious
Vinepaw blinked a few times then looked around where the hell was he..then out of the blue he heard a squeaky voice he jumped startled.Wait..what was this kit rambling about..wait brother?! He had a sister?! He has never met his mother and well this she cat resembled him.”I don’t believe it I have a sister?!Whats your name?Im Vinepaw he said to the kit
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Moonkit
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| She/her | 1 Moon - 0 Moons at birth |
"Love you to the moon and back!"
The little kit couldn't contain her excitement! Her brother! She was really meeting one of her brothers! Though, she thought she had more siblings than that? Well, next time she'll bring even more up to play among the stars with her. She began to hop up and down and place while very excitedly nodding her head. "Yes yes! My brother! My brother, Vinepaw!! I'm Moonkit! Hey?" The little kit stopped bouncing and after wiggling her ears a bit in thought, she looked up at her brother with a playful glare looking far too silly on a kit so small, "How come your Vinepaw, while I'm Moonkit? I think I should be Moonpaw now, that's only fair! But we should play! Mama is busy right now, but maybe you can visit her later!" That wasn't true, but mama would be very upset at Moonkit just 'wandering' off and Moonkit didn't want to get scolded by mama in front of her brother so soon! They have only just met. The kit looked at Vinepaw again, waiting excitedly for the okay to play! She wondered what game they would play!
As another gift to his favorite kid, Jaystride focused his energy back on ThunderClan's old camp. The sky above the sinkhole swirled, turning dark with storm clouds - and rain began to pour over the ruins. Like water pouring into a bowl, the hole was beginning to fill, and by the time the storm was over it was nearly to the brim.
The rest of the camp was sodden, flooded in areas where the ground had dipped from erosion. In time, this would dry - and leave ThunderClan with a hopefully lasting pond of their own.
For now, once his storm simmered down, Jaystride sank back to the ground in exhaustion. If worldweaving the bottom of the sinkhole a couple moons ago was rough on him, this took him out completely - he could nap for ages!
Vinepaw’s eyes widened as Moonkit hopped excitedly in front of him. Her enthusiasm was both endearing and a bit overwhelming. He shifted nervously, trying to match her energy with a smile.
“Hi, Moonkit,” he said, his voice wavering slightly. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
When she asked about their names, Vinepaw blinked, caught off guard by her question. “Oh, well, um, I guess Moonpaw does sound pretty cool,” he stammered, trying to keep his tone light. “But Moonkit is a great name for now, don’t you think?”
At her suggestion to play, Vinepaw’s anxiety faded into a smile. “Playing sounds like fun,” he said, his voice gaining a bit more confidence. “What game do you want to play?” He glanced around, feeling a bit unsure but eager to make the most of their time together. “Let’s play and, um, make sure to be careful. Mama might be worried if she can’t find you,” he added, trying to be gentle yet mindful of Moonkit’s excitement.
Flamingclaw slowly opened his eyes. Wha-? Where was this place? What was he doing here? He stood up and looked around nervously, surely he'd have remembered if he’d travelled somewhere. "Hello? Where am I?" The former ThunderClan warrior called out to no one in particular.
[Open!]
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"You'll take the high road and I'll take the low road
And I'll be in Scotland before ye
Where me and my true love shall never meet again
On the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond!"
Redface expects the pain. That there is a feeling like falling, then no feeling at all, and then—this?—throws him for a bit of a loop, though. He finds his afterlife in a timely manner despite the initial confusion, stepping from earth and into stardust so cleanly it leaves his head spinning. There's no great struggle, no long voyage through the dark. He's simply there one moment, and gone the next.
Now here Redface stands, dumb and unsure. It's just that he never thought he'd die the way that he did. He certainly never knew it could all be so...sooo, what? Pointless? No. No, not that. Not pointless. Even now, he carries the memory of Leopardpaw's bleeding face and Ravenhawk's outline against the blue sky, seeming to grow larger as Redface himself sank. Starclan, please—get her home. Into the grass, into his own pooling blood, into a death he never would have picked, never could have predicted. But there was a point to it. If nothing else, he must at least believe that it had meant something.
"A cat can't ask for much more'n that." He says it aloud so as to make it true. There's still something that sits heavy in his chest; an ache or a bruise or the weight of all those moons he hadn't gotten to yet. Redface breathes deep into lungs that no longer need it. He won't pout. He won't.
But what is it, then? He died heroically, one could argue, though he's a little embarrassed at how swiftly that rogue had dispatched him—how unglamorous it'd been. He lived to become a warrior. He'd eaten good prey, slept under the stars, felt sunlight on his face. He'd known good cats. He let them know they were good. Any lasting regrets he can think of, he's certain he'll find a way to get over. If he spins it like the optimist he tries to be, he's only dead now. Not gone. And sure, maybe there were a few things he'd have liked to experience while he still had a pulse to keep the beat...but he could hardly say he'd lived an incomplete life without them.
There's an awful phantom tightness, a fleeting breathlessness. He wishes, above all else, that the memory of the end didn't sit so clearly in his mind. The red tabby spins and then spins again, nervously scanning this shiny new heavenscape. The last thing he wants to see now is either of those spotted pelts, either cat who'd lived through his death, and to his vast relief it looks like he's still alone here. Good. That's good. All he can do is hope, and hope, and hope that Ravenhawk had gotten the apprentice home to safety. It's an odd feeling; Redface had always thought Starclan to be omnipotent, above fear or doubt, and here he is spending his first moments in the stars sick to his stomach with uncertainty. He's worried—frightened—that his death will mean less if either of them follow. It's a shallow concern, one that makes him feel awfully unworthy and one that does not shake easily.
No pouting!!
Another deep breath. In, out. And a few more for good measure; he needs to feel the sensation right now, even if he doesn't need the air. Death might be an exciting new venture to him soon enough but right now all he can think about is that he needs to know what happened to the others, because surely that will settle his nerves once and for all, and he also needs to know what he's supposed to. Do? Now?? But.
Just.
How does he do that? Where're the Newly-Dead Lessons held? The Corpse Corrals?? How does one apply for Dead Guy Training???
"It's fine, you're fine. You're grown. You're observant. You got plenty'a time to figure it out." Talking aloud again, if only to remind himself that he's still real. In a sense.
Re: StarClan Territory
THE STAREATER
